The Story of My Happy Ending
by ComicsShowsAndBroadway
Summary: This is my story. The story of how my life ended at age 18. Before my Senior year ended. Before I got to marry my best friend like I always promised myself I would. Before I had my happy ending. But, you could always say this one was. Depending on how you look at it. TW: Brian Tumor.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone dies.

It's a fact of life. Everyone, at one point or another, dies. You lose people, you move on, you get over it.

I just didn't expect my family to get over me so soon.

It's not just my family. The Warblers are trying to get over it as well, as well as they can, at least. I think they miss me, but it's hard to tell sometimes. Sometimes they talk about how much of an ass I was, or how much of a pain I was when it came to choreography and shit.

They laugh. Then they stop. Then they stay in silence for a good ten minutes before Hunter forces them all to start again, and works them as hard as I would.

I thanked God every day for Hunter.

You must be confused, right? Sebastian Smythe is suddenly dead, what's up with that? Yeah, I know I started off a bit...morbid, maybe? I should have started from the beginning, I guess.

Well, the beginning is a bit happier, I suppose. I had just moved from Paris and to America. You all know the story, about everything that happened with the New Directions and the Warblers, how I nearly blinded Blaine, so I won't bore you with all of that again. No no, I'll start from the beginning of junior year, when Hunter Clarington showed up. God, he was _great._ It was someone I actually connected with, someone who... actually cared about what happened to me.

Of course, you also know everything that happened with the New Directions _that_ time too. Steroids, trying to get Blaine back, not necessarily in that order. So again, I won't bored you with that. I'll bore you with the story of everything _else_ that happened that year.

Hunter and I had already become great friends. We were almost inseparable. We were another Nick and Jeff. Except Hunter wasn't gay. No way.

At least that's what he told everyone else.

I was the first person he came out to. He told me he'd been having some feelings for guys the way he was supposed to have for girls, and he was confused and _terrified_. And I knew exactly how he felt. That's how I felt when I first came out to my family, but thank God they accepted me. Hunter's parents accepted him as well, but that's besides the point.

After that, we were even _more_ inseparable. He and I went everywhere together.

Even to my first doctor's appointment.

Now, before we start there, we'll start when Hunter first convinced me to go to the doctor. I was in rehearsal, we all were, obviously. I had to take a few breaks because I had a _major_ migraine, and I was just not having it that day. I wanted to go and lay down for five hours and just lay there until I felt better. Hunter came to help me to our room after rehearsal, and he looked ridiculously concerned.

"Hey, Bas, are you alright? Maybe you should go to the doctor. They can definitely give you some medicine for that headache of yours." He had said, motioning to his own head. I laughed slightly, shaking my head.

"I hate the doctors. They suck. All they're going to do is tell me to go lay down for a few hours just like the nurse did, and I really don't want to have to make my parents pay for that kind of shit advice." I told him, standing up and walking with him.

"Well, then I'll just have to pay for it, won't I? Can't have my bed Warbler injured and not able to perform, can I?" He said, laughing. "I'll make an appointment for next Tuesday after rehearsal, k?" He said, nodding.

I sighed, but nodded. "Yes, sir." I said mockingly, laughing with him. We went back to our dorm and got ready for bed, and the rest of that week and the beginning of the next week went just like normal. We'd gone to the doctors that Tuesday, and they decided I should get a CAT scan. So, I did. They told me they'd have the results in a few days.

And a few days later, they called me in. Hunter went with me, obviously. We'd gone in, they called me to the doctors office, and sat us down.

"Mr. Smythe, I'm afraid I have some... troubling news." He said softly, sitting down in front of me. "I fear we've found a...tumor. In your upper brain." He told me.

Hunter gasped, reacting immediately. I took a second. I looked up to the doctor when it had finally registered in my mind. I was dying.

"Is there a treatment?" I asked softly.

He nodded. "Chemotherapy. We can start you on Chemo next week." He said. Hunter nodded, doing all of the talking for me. I'd tuned everything out, I was too stuck on the fact that there was a _tumor in my brain._

It had all made so much more sense now that I'd thought about it. The forgetfulness, the migraines, everything. It was because of an abnormal growth in my brain that was _killing me._

I was going to die.

Everyone dies.


	2. Chapter 2

Being nice really did suck.

I mean, seriously. What's so fun about being completely nice all of the time, only to _still_ have people be dicks to you?

But David had made me. Kind of. He made me realize what a dick I was to everyone. He's still going strong, by the way. I think he's found some guy down from Scandals. They're a really cute couple, honestly.

Anyways, as I was saying, being nice sucked. It was always so boring. There was never any drama, never anything to talk about anymore. And everyone is always so fucking nice.

They smothered me.

When the Warblers found out, they never left me alone. Hunter told them for me, and I knew they meant well, but honestly, I never got a moment to myself. Someone was _always_ with me. Hunter stayed with me in our room, Nick and Jeff never left me alone in class, Trent went with me to every single chemo treatment.

I did appreciate that last one. No way would I have been able to do that on my own.

One of the days that were the absolute worse was when everyone else in the school had found out.

It was a few days after the Warblers and the lacrosse team had found out, and _no one_ would leave me alone.

It started in English class. Jeff and Nick came and sat on either side of me, hugging me and then talking over me to each other. I didn't really mind, I really didn't have a lot to say anymore anyways, so it wasn't like it was a huge change. But then Matt, someone I barely knew if I even knew him at all, came up to me quietly.

"Hi, Sebastian.." He had said softly, clenching his jaw. "I heard about what happened, and... I'm really sorry. My aunt died of the same thing." He said, nodding. He patted me on the back, then walked away to sit with his friends, who continuously looked over at me.

I was confused for a moment, but then it sunk in. Everyone knew. And I couldn't tell them to fuck off. I couldn't tell them I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't tell them to shove their sorrys up their asses and leave me alone.

Because I was being nice.

So I took it. I sat their, forced a smile, told them I'd be okay, and then walked away. A few other guys didn't take the whole 'I'm just tired' excuse, but I didn't really care, as long as they left me alone. If they didn't, I just stopped talking to them.

After a few days of it though, it was _really_ starting to get to me, and you could tell.

I was quiet. More than usual. I didn't really talk to anyone during Warbler rehearsal, I stopped going to watch the lacrosse practices, I stayed silent unless called on in class. I cut myself off. Isolated myself.

Hunter had had enough of it.

So, he went to our room straight after a rehearsal I had skipped to find me sobbing into a pillow on the bed.

"Oh, Sebastian.." I heard him whisper, sighing softly. He walked in, closing the door and pulling off his shoes and blazer and climbing into the bed with me. I stopped crying almost as soon as I'd heard him, refusing to let anyone see me like that. I'd lost track of time, and I hadn't realized how late it was. I sat up on the bed in my sweatpants and wife beater, wiping my eyes as I reached over to grab my glasses.

Hunter sighed softly, pulling me into his side. I moved reluctantly, resting my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes, sniffling. "This is fucking _awful..._ I know I'm a terrible person, but do I really deserve this shit?" I'd asked. It was rhetorical, I didn't expect an answer, but Hunter gave me one anyways.

"Sometimes things like this happen to _good people_ like you, Sebastian, and for no good reason. But you just have to... accept it, and move on from it, and be strong about it. And you are strong, Sebastian. I've seen you." He said softly, kissing my head. I sniffled, wiping my eyes again.

I looked up to him, swallowing slightly. I'd had a crush on him for I don't know how long, and...if I was going to die, I was going to do it right. I was going to at least kiss this man before I went. And who knows? I might've died that night.

So I leaned in, and I planted one right on his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him gently. He'd started kissing me back after a moment, but he pulled back.

"We can't. You know that. We're friends, Seb... I don't like you like that..." He said softly.

It was a lie. I knew it was a lie. He's terrible at lying. But I never called him out on it. That's rude.

So I sighed, clenched my jaw, and nodded. I pulled back, pushing him gently out of my bed. He got out reluctantly, trying to talk to me. I'd tuned him out, so to this day I have no idea what he had said. Probably something like, 'It's not you, it's me', or something just as cliché. But I continued to push him out of my bed until he'd left me alone. I got underneath the covers, closing my eyes tightly so I would stop crying, and tried my bed to sleep.

Of course, I didn't get any sleep that night.

Like I said,

Being nice really did suck.

AN: So...hi. I guess this chapter is pretty okay? I don't particularly like it... But I don't know how to fix it, so. Review!


	3. Chapter 3

I've decided that I hate chemotherapy.

Seriously. It sucks. I have to sit in a chair, for about two hours, with absolutely nothing to do. Trent is really great, he is. He keeps me company, and he lightens the mood most times.

Most times.

Other times, though, I just really can't find the energy to be happy. To actually smile and laugh at the things he says, or to even make an effort to join in a conversation.

Days like today were days Trent liked to call the 'bad days'.

He'd driven me to the hospital in silence like he always did, right after Warbler rehearsal. He made sure I was alright before taking off, listening to shitty songs on the radio. When he pulled up, he helped me out of the car and made me sit in a wheelchair as he walked me to the chemo centre, and grabbed a nurse. He sat down next to me, smiling at me and making sure I was okay again.

I was just staring. Just staring at the floor, my eyes cold and tired, and my body pale and even skinnier than before. He sighed softly, grabbing onto my hand as some chemicals were pumped into me, trying to keep me calm.

The first time I had chemo, I panicked and cried. Thankfully, Trent hadn't let that slip until the funeral.

He talked, made jokes, but he could tell I just wasn't in the mood to joke. He could tell that I just wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep for a few days. He didn't know what exactly was wrong, but I did kind of give him a hint.

"What are you supposed to do when someone doesn't love you back?" I'd asked softly, swallowing thickly.

Trent was at a loss for words for a moment, but then quickly composed himself again.

"Well... You get over it. You try and like someone else, I guess." He answered.

"I don't like him... I love him. And he's never going to give me a chance, Trent... What's wrong with me?" I asked softly, sniffling. "Why doesn't anyone love me back?"

Trent sighed softly, running a hand through my hair gently, ignoring the fact that some of it was coming out with his hand.

"I love you. All the Warblers love you. I know you love them. You are loved back, Seb. Even if it isn't the kind of love you want, you have us. You'll always have us." He'd promised.

I guess he wasn't really wrong... They'd all stayed after the funeral, just staring at my tombstone for two hours.

"Listen to me, Sebastian. You can talk to any of us. Any time. You know that, man..." He said softly, rubbing my arm gently. I sighed softly, sniffling. I just nodded, and I didn't say anything more on the matter. I brought my knees up to my chest and buried my face in it as I tried to ignore the nausea coming on.

"We do love you, Seb. We always have. We just wish you could see just how great you are." He said softly, nodding.

I just nodded. I hated that they were smothering me, but I loved that they were sincere.

After two hours, I finally felt a nurse pulling the needle out of my arm and wrapping it up so I would stop bleeding. I sighed softly, sniffling a bit. I was still in the wheelchair thankfully, so Trent just started wheeling me out and to his car. I got in slowly, still shaky and nauseous, sitting down in the passengers seat.

Trent got in on the drivers side, patting my knee comfortingly. I laid the seat down slowly so that I was laying down and tried my best to sleep.

Trent woke me up after a few minutes, letting me know where we were. I got out of the car slowly, leaning heavily on Trent. After standing there for a few more minutes, Nick came out and managed to get me off of Trent and into his own arms.

Hunter had lacrosse, that was the only reason he wasn't the one taking me to our room.

Nick held me bridal style, knowing already that I was way too weak after chemo to actually walk on my own. I leaned my head heavily onto his shoulder, my arms crossed against my chest as he carried me slowly up the stairs. I was put back down onto the floor when we finally got to my room, and Nick held my waist to make sure I stayed upright. I opened it then walked sluggishly into bed, waiting to Nick to cover me up. Instead of making me move from the bed, he just covered me with Hunters comforter.

Hunter came back after an hour or so, making sure he kissed my head the way he always did when I came back after chemo. Just because I was so nauseous, I almost never, ever felt it. And again,

I've decided that I hate chemotherapy.


End file.
